Admittedly, I'm scribbling this on the fly while waiting for my pants to finish washing (I really should own more than three pairs) and my wife to return home so we can leave to house/dog sit for her aunt and uncle who live 40 miles away—luckily in the city I work in. But they don't have a workable computer and I'm gearing up for another 70 hour work week. So it's now or never to crank the column out for this week. That means…yep, randomness. Yet, this last week has been a busy and odd one between the Oscar nominees, a Rambo movie opening in theaters, and of course the sad news of Heath Ledger's death, all topics I want to touch upon.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar: sometimes you hit it dead on, sometimes you make me gag, and that's the way it is every year. I'm ecstatic to see my two favorite films (There Will Be Blood and No Country For Old Men) earn a bagful of nominations. And while I admired Michael Clayton, Juno and Atonement, I felt there were several better choices out there (Zodiac for starters). And really, nominating the little girl from Atonement makes me a tad sick. I know the character isn't suppose to be likable, but Saoirse Ronan's performance was grating beyond belief.

That's all a minor quibble compared to Cate Blanchett receiving a nom for the awful Elizabeth: The Golden Age while Angelina Jolie's brilliant turn in A Mighty Heart was snubbed. Simply put, Jolie gave the best female performance of the year (and yes, I've seen the overrated La Vie en Rose).

However, here's some background info just so you don't think I'm rooting for Jolie from some slobbering fanboy perspective. First of all, I don't find her to be the most beautiful woman in the world as it seems everyone else does. Sure, she's attractive, but I think much of it is light and makeup. Search out some non-red carpet photos and you'll see what I mean…or look at the pics from when she won her Oscar and notice her boney granny hands. Anyway that's all superficial. Until A Mighty Heart, I found her to be a below average actress whose every performance was a self-conscious display of sexy smiling. And her Oscar win for Girl, Interrupted was one of those bullshit awards the Academy hands out every once in a while for a lazy performance full of histrionics and quirks but empty on genuine emotion and depth (aka "The Sally Field School of Acting").

So, I'd say it's not the easiest for me to admit Jolie delivered the goods in anything. But in A Mighty Heart she did and then some. In fact she knocked me and my dumbass assumptions through the back wall of the theater. So yeah. Not only did she deserve a nomination, she earned the damn statue in my opinion.

Speaking of swallowing my pride, last week I wrote the following:

If Rambo touches upon the idea of its title character belonging to a time period long gone, then maybe the movie might win me over. Otherwise seeing a sagging, overweight Stallone corpsify Asians in his sixties comes off as sad and embarrassing when there's no irony attached."

Essentially, I thought Rambo was going to suck the donkey's kong. Well, well, sometimes I should just shut up until I see the damn movie. In no way does Rambo examine its character as a product of the excessive, shallow nature of the '80s. However, without any irony attached, I still really enjoyed the movie—much more than Cloverfield. By changing the visual style from the previous films and toning down the over-over-over-the-top sweaty war porn action a tad (like a Tank vs. Helicopter chicken fight in Rambo III), Sylvester Stallone has brought his '80s icon into the new millennium without it feeling lame.

I think maybe the reason the film worked for me is in relation to another comment I made when I called Rambo "a campfire boogeyman tale communists would scare their kiddies with." As Stallone's shoulders appeared broader than ever and his edged-weapon of choice being a machete was it just me or did Rambo really spin the character as a slightly less retarded Jason Voorhees? That's the vibe I got and whether it was on purpose I dug it.

Alright, now for the painful story that we all wish did not happen last week: Heath Ledger's sudden passing. I think the initial reaction to the news elicited shock from almost everybody. That's safe to say. However, it was interesting to gauge the diverging responses from folks on the Internet. Altogether, there seemed to be four attitudes on display: sadness, indifference (ranging from mild to asshole), anger, and the "What about The Dark Knight?" crowd. For me, I fell into the anger category first (I believe my posted response on this site was "GODDAMNIT!"). Here you have an actor who beat the career pitfalls of the "teen heart throb" by focusing on his craft with complex roles, an actor who was probably going to give us fascinating characters for years to come. And then BAM! Before he even reaches his prime, it's all gone. It's the type of unfair situation that makes people like me shake their fists at the sky above. Heath Ledger is my generation's James Dean, a compliment tinted in sadness that no one really wants to hand out.

However, with all of that said, I won't deny I sort of straddled into "What about The Dark Knight?" crowd. Now, I didn't give a good goddamn whether Warner Bros. would delay the movie or that sort of stupidity. For those who worried whether they'd have to wait longer to see the film, get a life, get laid, get some fucking empathy for Christ's sake.

Yet I don't think the Internet community's curiosity over The Dark Knight was entirely misplaced. Along with many others, I was curious about the integrity of what would be Ledger's last complete performance, a performance from the little bit I've seen made me go on record after the trailer's release that award nominations were possible. From all accounts and footage shown, Ledger appeared to have completely disappeared into this role and delivered a real tour de force.

When talented actors die while filming a movie or shortly after production wraps, I always find it a tad heartbreaking when either the movie is horrible or the filmmakers have to resort to some never entirely convincing patch-up work in post-production. It feels like a slight stain on the deceased's legacy. So, it's reassuring to know Ledger's post-production work was finished. And coupled with an ace director like Christopher Nolan, I'd say chances are in favor of Ledger's final fully realized performance not being blemished by an awful movie or some weird post-production quilt work.

As for The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and whether Ledger's uncompleted work should still appear in the final film (if it ever gets finished). Well, my feelings are mixed, and let's save that for another time.

In the end, R.I.P. Mr. Ledger. You will be missed.

Related post categories: Editorials, Features, The Shallow End : Angelina Jolie, Heath Ledger, Rambo

Permalink   |   RSS Feed | No comments yet